The night was restless. Karachi's skyline shimmered with restless lights — but inside a quiet hospital in Gulshan, fear was the only thing awake.
Room 207 was supposed to be under police protection. A female witness — the same woman from the café — lay there, recovering from a gunshot wound to her shoulder. Her name, according to hospital files, was Ayesha Khan, a data analyst formerly employed at a private cybersecurity firm.
She kept her eyes fixed on the window. Outside, two uniformed policemen stood guard.
Or so it seemed.
At exactly 2:13 a.m., both men received a short coded message on their radios:
"Unit 7, shift change. Immediate clearance."
They looked at each other, nodded, and walked away.
Two minutes later, an unmarked ambulance pulled into the alley behind the hospital.
A man in a doctor's coat stepped out, mask on, ID card flashing under the dim light. He entered Room 207 quietly.
Ayesha woke up at the faint squeak of the door.
"You're not my doctor…" she whispered.
The man smiled — coldly.
"I'm here to transfer you to a safer place."
She tried to press the alarm button, but he was faster — a quick jab with a syringe, and her world faded to black.
By the time the nurses entered the room ten minutes later, the bed was empty.
The window was open.
The witness had vanished.
---
Next Morning – Jamshed's Temporary Hideout
Jamshed's children had relocated to an old safe house near Hawksbay, a property from one of Jamshed's past cases. The walls were bare, the rooms dusty — but safe.
Farooq stared at his laptop, scanning through city camera feeds.
"Abba, I found something strange — a fake ambulance leaving the hospital at 2:15 a.m. No registration record, no route logs."
Mehmooda leaned over his shoulder. "So they took her. The witness from the café."
Jamshed nodded slowly, his jaw clenched.
"Ayesha Khan. She must've known something about the packet's data. That's why they wanted her gone."
Farooq tapped a few keys. "Wait — she once worked for a firm called Cybrex Solutions. It was shut down last year… reason listed as 'national security breach.' Guess who the lead scientist was?"
He turned the laptop toward his father.
Dr. Zafar Qureshi.
The same name from the old file.
Jamshed's pulse quickened. "So Ayesha worked under Zafar… maybe she helped build the chip that ended up in that packet."
Suddenly, the room lights flickered. The computer beeped.
"Farooq," Jamshed said sharply, "what's happening?"
"Someone's hacking into our system — live!"
Lines of code began to scroll across the screen. The words "I warned you, Inspector" flashed in red, followed by a countdown timer — 00:01:30.
"It's a bomb!" Mehmooda shouted.
They grabbed what they could and bolted out the door. Thirty seconds later, the safe house erupted — flames lighting up the dark sky.
---
Elsewhere – A Moving Ambulance
Ayesha woke up slowly. Her vision blurred. The hum of the engine vibrated through the metal floor. Her hands were cuffed.
Across from her sat the "doctor" — now without his mask, revealing a scar across his jaw.
"Where are you taking me?" she demanded weakly.
He smirked. "To meet the man who built your past… and plans your future."
A voice came through his earpiece.
"Mr. Z wants her alive," it said.
"For now."
Ayesha's eyes widened.
"Mr. Z is real," she whispered.
---
Cut to – Mr. Z's Command Room
Mr. Z watched the explosion feed from the safe house.
"They escaped," said one of his operatives nervously.
Mr. Z turned slowly, eyes cold.
"Good. Let them run. Fear makes people predictable."
He placed a new folder on his desk, labeled 'Packet Two – Location: Northern Karachi Port.'
"It's time they find the second packet," he said.
"That's where the end begins."